The Tension Builds
by fanboy-anonymous
Summary: At a roadside bar in Minnesota, Sam Winchester watches his brother, Dean, flirt with a beautiful woman. Unable to bear it any longer, he pulls Dean into a dark alley outside and makes his true feelings very clear... Contains "Wincest". 2 Chapters. REPOST.
1. Chapter 1

"**THE TENSION BUILDS…"**

**chapter one**

A tall man was leaning against the pool table in a roadside bar just outside of Duluth, Minnesota. He had dark brown hair, swept across his forehead, and eyes that indicated a certain degree of sadness, even when he smiled.

His name was Sam Winchester.

He lifted the bottle in his hand up to his pursed lips and took a sip of beer, looking around him. Soon, he spotted his older brother pushing through the crowd, on his way back from the bathroom.

Dean Winchester was not quite as tall as Sam, but had always been rated slightly higher in the handsome stakes. He also had a certain charisma that made him very popular with women, and he knew it. As he approached the pool table, he took a credit card out of his jacket pocket and studied it, smiling.

"Drink up, Sasquatch," said Dean, chuckling. "The beers are on Mr. D. Berkowitz. Bobby left us an envelope behind the bar a couple of days ago – fake I.D.'s, credit cards, the whole bit. So I guess we don't have to worry about cash for a little while." He grinned, slipping the credit card into the back pocket of his jeans.

Sam rolled his eyes and took another sip of beer. "That's great, Dean," he sighed. "But I'm beat, and I just wanna find a motel and get some sleep before we have to hit the road again tomorrow. That poltergeist in Chicago isn't going to exorcise itself."

"Yeah, yeah," Dean replied. "Look, just ten more minutes, OK? Let me get another beer. That chick at the bar is totally undressing me with her eyes." He pointed towards a tall brunette in a black dress, leaning against the bar. Sam had noticed her watching Dean a half-hour ago.

Sam groaned. "Dean, we don't have time for you to follow your downstairs brain on another adventure tonight, OK? I'm tired, I'm gonna get cranky, and then I'm gonna have to kick you in the balls."

"Whoa!" Dean's eyes widened. "What's up with the bitchiness, Sammy? Just because you haven't been laid in…" He stopped, and there was an awkward moment of silence as they both looked away from each other. Dean knew exactly how long it was since Sam had been laid…

"Wait here," Dean said, without looking back at Sam, and slipped away from the pool table, heading towards the bar. Sam shook his head, and watched as Dean sauntered up to the brunette girl and immediately start flirting with her. He gripped the beer bottle tighter, biting his lip. He knew Dean was doing this just to get at him, but he was way too tired to go after him.

At the bar, the girl laughed and slid her hand up Dean's arm. He looked over his shoulder to make sure Sam had seen the gesture, and judging by the slightly disgruntled look on his younger brother's face, Dean knew he had. He could read Sam like a book.

He ordered another beer, and continued to charm the brunette – who, by this time, had blurted out that she was waiting for her boyfriend to arrive. That didn't put Dean off. Half of the women he'd slept with had had boyfriends, sometimes even girlfriends. That just made things more interesting.

Meanwhile, across the bar at the pool table, Sam could do nothing but watch on disapprovingly as his brother used his sex appeal to try and con yet another nameless, faceless girl into bed. Dean was probably spinning her some lie about being a rock star, or a Hollywood talent scout, or an FBI agent. As Sam well knew, "Hi, I'm a Demon hunter" didn't usually set a girls heart aflutter.

Sam watched as a tall, burly, tattooed guy entered the bar and immediately advanced on Dean, grabbing him by the collar of his jacket. He dragged Dean away from the brunette girl and a few, inaudible words were exchanged between them. Sam shook his head, watching with a smirk on his face. This was classic Dean Winchester – always wanting to stick his dick where he knew he really shouldn't. Sam knew that better than anyone.

He could tell when Dean took a hard smack to the face, that his brother had just made one of his trademark wise-ass remarks. He then looked on incredulously as Dean, instead of retaliating, turned on his heels and walked away from the fight. He came back to the pool table, rubbing the side of his face and licking the blood away from his lower lip, and Sam could do nothing but shrug. "I told you not to –" he began.

"Don't even start," interrupted Dean, pushing past Sam and heading for the exit. Sam quickly put down his beer and followed.

When they were outside in the cold night air, Sam rushed to keep up with Dean, who was trudging towards the Impala. When he caught up, Sam grabbed Dean's hand and swung him round, then shoved him into a small dark alleyway beside the bar. Dean looked bewildered as Sam pushed him into the shadows and up against the wall. "Sammy, what the –" Dean started, but was cut off when Sam's mouth met his, pushing his head back against the wall. Dean's lips were swollen from the punch, and Sam knew to kiss gently, licking at the cut on his lower lip.

For a moment, Dean seemed to respond and kiss Sam back, before pushing his brother away and looking out into the parking lot. "Sam, what the hell are you doing?" He asked, looking stunned. He wiped the moisture from his lips with the back of his hand. "Someone might see."

"So?" Sam smiled. "No-one here even knows us."

"So?" Dean spat, his eyes wide in disbelief. "Sam, what's gotten into you? Are you possessed again or something?"

Sam couldn't help but laugh. "No, Dean," he said. "Look, what's the big deal anyway?"

Dean shook his head, stepping forwards. "The big deal, Sam," he said, "is that we both agreed we shouldn't do this anymore."

Sam looked hurt. "No, you agreed, Dean." He said through gritted teeth. "After what happened in Texas, you got freaked out and said it wouldn't happen again. But we both know that's not what you really want. You're the one who started this again."

Sam turned and marched out of the alleyway, making his way towards the car. Dean waited a minute, composing himself before coming out of the shadows.

Sam was waiting in the car. Dean got in, started the ignition, and drove to the motel in silence, with Sam's saliva still wet on his lips…


	2. Chapter 2

"**THE TENSION BUILDS…"**

**chapter two**

The room was nice. Nicer than anything they'd seen in a long time.

The Winchester brothers had seen their fair share of nasty motel rooms, and they were grateful that, for once, they'd checked into a place that looked nice, smelled clean, and had two large and comfortable-looking beds.

Dean dumped his bag on the floor and threw himself onto one of the beds. He buried his face in the cool, clean sheets and sighed, "Oh God, Sam, you gotta try this."

Sam didn't reply. He wasn't in the mood for small talk after the argument they'd just had. He knew Dean was trying to clear the air but he just couldn't bring himself to even look at his brother right now. He threw his bag onto the other bed and went into the bathroom, closing the door quietly behind him.

Dean sat up, the smile falling from his face, and sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the bathroom door.

Sam stood in the darkness of the bathroom, leaning against the door. He didn't come out for almost half-an-hour.

**...**

At 2 a.m., they were both still awake. They sat on their separate beds and watched TV, each with a bottle of beer in their hands.

Unable to bear the quietness anymore, Dean spoke. "Sam, please," he sighed. "Say something."

A few moments passed as Sam took a sip of beer before replying. "You know, Dean," he said. "It's not our fault that we're screwed up. The way we were raised was jacked. Mom was dead, Dad was always off on a hunting gig, and we had no real friends. All we've ever had is each other. All I've ever had is you…"

Dean swallowed hard. "I know," he said, unable to look at Sam. He brought the beer bottle to his lips and took a large mouthful.

Moments later, the bed creaked as Sam lay down next to Dean, his hand resting on his brother's. There was a familiar shock of electricity between them, and Dean turned to face Sam, who was staring back at him with a calm and meaningful look in his eyes. He knew exactly what was going to happen.

"Sam… don't," said Dean, standing up.

Sam shook his head in disbelief as he got up and stepped towards Dean. "Then tell me you don't want this. Tell me you don't think about it every minute of every day. Tell me you don't physically hurt every time you say that this can never happen again, knowing it's all you want."

"I… I don't…" Dean stuttered, backing away. His throat was dry.

Sam scoffed. "You're a liar."

Dean held up his hands. "OK!" He yelled. "OK, so maybe I do think about it. But so what? Sam, it's not right."

"You don't believe that." Sam spat. His eyes filled with tears, his face twisted with frustration. "You want it just as much as I do, probably more. I've seen the way you look at me when you think I'm not paying attention, and I know you were only flirting with that bar skank tonight to try and make me feel jealous! You like to have power over me, making me want you and then telling me it will never happen. You're sick."

Dean lunged for Sam and grabbed him by the shirt collar, swinging him round and slamming him into the wall. For a second, they both stared into each other's eyes, nostrils flared, breathing hard and ready for a fight. But it wasn't a fight Dean wanted. He leaned in and kissed Sam hard, pushing their lips together. Sam's mouth instinctively opened, allowing Dean's tongue to slip in and lick at Sam's.

They went on for several minutes in silence, pressed against each other, Dean holding Sam's chin in his hand so he could tilt his head to an appropriate angle. He moaned as Sam licked at the cut on his lip, caused by the punch in the bar. It stung, but he didn't care. The more he'd been trying to fight this, the more he'd wanted it.

Dean tilted his head and slid his tongue back into Sam's mouth, his hand starting to unbutton Sam's shirt. Sam responded by starting to unbutton Dean's, and once they were both topless, Dean grabbed Sam by the belt and hauled him away from the wall, stepping backwards in the direction of the bed. As he did, he admired his brother's upper body. Sam's arms were perfectly sculpted; his torso was lean and muscular, his stomach rippling in the glow from the lamplight, with a light trail of hair leading down his abdomen. He was beautiful.

Dean wanted Sam stripped bare; to feel Sam's flesh against his own; to kiss, and taste, every inch of his soft, warm skin. He wanted to hold Sam close and never have to let go ever again. He needed to own Sam completely and in every way possible, to be part of him. He felt entitled to it somehow. After all, the same blood ran through their veins…

Suddenly and without warning, Sam took control of the proceedings and pushed Dean back onto the bed. He opened Dean's legs and slid between them, lying on top of his brother and kissing his full, soft lips once more. His hand slid down to Dean's crotch, where he rubbed the growing bulge in his pants, much to Dean's obvious delight as a light, breathless laugh escaped his lips. Sam smiled, taking his lips away from Dean's and moving down, kissing his warm, muscular chest, licking Dean's nipples, then licking a trail down his stomach and around his belly-button.

Dean's stomach quivered under Sam's tongue, and a shiver spread across his skin, giving him goose pimples and raising the hairs on his arms. No-one had ever felt as good as Sam. No-one ever would…

Unable to wait any longer, Sam yanked off his own jeans, before unzipping Dean's and hauling them off. Dean was left in just his underwear, which by now could barely contain his erection. Sam pulled the underwear off slowly, teasingly, looking into Dean's eyes. He pulled it down past Dean's thighs, over his knees, never breaking eye-contact. When the boxer shorts were off, he threw them across the room.

Leaning down, he licked the tip of Dean's cock, then the entire length of it, before sliding the head into his mouth.

When Dean felt the inside of Sam's wet, warm mouth around his cock, he could hardly bare it. This was too perfect. He lifted his hips off the bed, slipping further into Sam's mouth. Sam grasped the base with his hand and used it to control the depth and angle, and ran his tongue around the head of Dean's cock.

"Oh, fuck…" Dean sighed, breathless. "Yeah, Sammy…" Sam knew exactly what to do to make Dean tremble.

As things grew more intense, Dean sat up and grabbed Sam by the back of the hair, yanking him up to his knees then pushing him back onto the bed. Sam landed in the pillows, dazed, his chin dripping with saliva. He realized exactly what Dean wanted now.

Dean spread Sam's legs and lifted them up, bending his knees against his chest. Crawling into position, he slid the tip of his dick inside Sam's ass. The lubrication from Sam's saliva made it easy. He watched Sam close his eyes and tilt his head back – bracing himself – and then Dean leaned in and slid the rest of himself inside Sam.

Sam made a long, stretched-out groaning sound that echoed around the small motel room. "Dean…" he whispered. His stomach muscles contracted and his half-erect cock pulsed, growing harder in Dean's hand.

Dean started moving, slowly at first, both of them rocking gently in time with each other. The bed started to creak louder as Dean began to thrust faster and deeper. They both breathed loudly in sharp bursts. Before long, Dean could feel the point of orgasm approaching fast, and he jerked Sam off quicker, wanting them to come at the same time.

When he couldn't wait any longer, he lay his body down against Sam's and they kissed. Dean grunted noisily when he came, pulling out and finishing himself off by hand. Wave after wave of intense orgasm flooded through his body as the thick, white semen shot out of him and over Sam's stomach. Seconds later, Sam climaxed too, the come merging with Dean's in a sticky puddle on his belly. He sat up, gasping for breath, and kissed Dean once more before falling back into the pillows, exhausted.

Dean fell beside him, taking Sam's hand in his. They both lay there for hours afterwards, drifting in and out of sleep and smelling of beer, salty sweat and semen.

**...**

At 6 a.m., Dean woke up and peered over at Sam with bleary eyes. He was sleeping soundly, breathing silently, his fingers still entwined in Dean's.

When Dean got up, Sam jolted awake and turned over. He rubbed his eyes and watched Dean as he sauntered towards the bathroom, his eyes falling over Dean's muscular back and perfectly-formed ass. He was truly a thing of beauty. Sam loved him so much it hurt.

He listened as Dean took a piss and turned on the shower. He lay there, Dean's semen dried on his stomach, and knew that things would be different from now on. Now they both knew exactly what they wanted - each other.

There was no going back now... right?

"Hey, Sammy!" Dean called from the shower. "Get dressed. We gotta hit the road again. That poltergeist in Chicago isn't gonna exorcise itself, right?"

Sam smiled, stretching his long limbs out across the bed and growling. "Yeah," he said quietly. "Good morning to you too, Dean."


End file.
